


Abuse

by traswxyz



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Abuse, F/M, One-Shot, Triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-01-13 10:00:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18466669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traswxyz/pseuds/traswxyz
Summary: This is a story that I wrote with the inspiration from Adayinmymeadow. I'm leaving it as a one-shot unless others would like more of the story. I mean for this story to show others the changing point in someone's life, when they realized that things weren't going as planned and that the person they were seeing in the mirror isn't them anymore.I do have to place trigger warnings on this piece, so I do apologize to anyone who is triggered.





	1. Making a Change

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Adayinmymeadow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adayinmymeadow/gifts), [JumpingJolt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JumpingJolt/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Here I Am](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18336098) by [Adayinmymeadow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adayinmymeadow/pseuds/Adayinmymeadow). 



> Let me know what you all think of this piece, if you want more, and the such.  
> TRIGGER WARNING.

I always thought that my entire life would be like a fairy tale. A supportive family, a great boyfriend who would then become my husband, and a well-paying job. I had already determined the names and number of children I wanted. I had a great family; they helped each other and me through the hardest times of our lives; and things started to look up when I started dating. My first boyfriend decided that we had nothing in common, so we broke up.

I remember encouraging myself daily after that; that I would find someone with similar tastes. I ended up finding someone who was almost exactly like me, my second boyfriend, only to find out that even though we had so much in common, it didn’t mean we were compatible. He broke it off a month after dating.

I met my current boyfriend after I graduated from high school and started university. We met in math class; I remember tutoring him for hours and days on end so that he would understand the material. In my mind, he was my Prince Charming: funny, cheerful, friendly and seemingly a good person. I didn’t realize how fake that was, how he was a liar, how abusive he was until I looked at myself in the mirror this morning.

My black hair was longer than ever, almost to my thighs. I couldn’t remember the last time that I had it cut. Running my fingers through, it was oily, rough and knotted. When was the last time I took a shower? Went to a salon? My bangs were practically covering my face, seeping down to my clavicle. My skin was rough, breaking in most places, and my nails were uneven and broken. Moving the hair out of my face, I saw a woman with scars, bruises, and marks that I couldn’t even remember where they came from. My entire body was so thin; I forgot I was looking at a person, not a skeleton. I had no idea what I was even wearing. A long shirt with holes scattered in random places and long, oversized gym shorts, I think. I was sure that the shirt had at one point a design, but it was so faded and covered in stains that it was difficult to decipher what was once on it. The shorts were also faded, a large tear on one of the legs.  Whoever this woman was; this wasn’t me. This isn’t me. My heart began to race in my chest as I tried to remember what I looked like, what day it was, when did I go out last. As these questions ran through my head, my body began to move out of my control. I quickly grabbed a plastic bag, along with a small dirty and ripped blanket and shoved it in there _._ I was shoving more things into the bag, not really thinking what I was putting in there, but rather that it had to go in there. A pair of scissors laid on the dirty counter top of the bathroom. They were small, rusty, and the thought became apart that if I wanted to leave, I could look this way. I grabbed them, bunched my hair up, ready to cut it when a small voice in the back of my head yelled at me to cut it in the apartment. I gently placed it in the bag and walked out into the main room. There were clothes, cigarette butts, and trash everywhere. Alcohol bottles full and empty were strewn across the floor, bits of glasses were everywhere  forcing me to tiptoe to the bedroom. As my hand reached for the door knob, a loud snore came from the other side. My hand twitched. At the last second my mind decided to leave everything behind, even if it was my entire being. My birth certificate and social security card were probably destroyed or missing. I was going to have to accept that I can’t walk into that room if I want to leave.

My hand fell farther away from the door knob, I turned on my heel, and tiptoed to the front door. The only shoes that I actually owned were a pair of flip flops in disrepair. They looked like they were going to fall apart if someone touched them. I gently slid my feet in; the size of them were way smaller than I thought they would be. I decided to ditch them, placing them back where they were. I could be faster without them. A small amount of fear ran through me; I hadn’t been outside in a while and I looked disgusting. I glanced around, seeing a large black and white striped hoodie laying on the ground near the bathroom. I quickly put it on, and walked out of the apartment. The entire apartment was old, broken glass everywhere, smoke filling the halls and loud voices at every turn and door. I rushed through, not even noticing if I passed by people, or how many doors crossed my view. My feet touching the concrete, I could feel people’s glances at me as I kept my head down, trying to not step on anything. Looking up every so often to not bump into people, I was attempting to find a bus stop. It wouldn’t be free, but maybe someone could take pity on me, help me get on. I also didn’t want to get on one near the apartment; that was asking to be caught. I walked about 4 blocks before I decided to stop at a bus stop crowded with people. They were of different ethnic groups, but there was clearly a separation between the different crowds. I nervously kept my distance, as the groups continued to speak to one another, paying no mind to me. I clutched my bag, fully aware how terribly I stuck out.

I kept playing scenarios in my head: what if someone asks questions, what if the groups break out in a fight, or what if they start to gang up on me? I continued to look at the ground. If I didn’t make eye-contact, it would be for the best. I quickly glanced at the road; a bus roughly pulling in front of everyone. The groups poured in, as I quietly lagged in the back. The overpacked bus had only one space that practically pressed me up against the doors. I heard a voice call out to me,

“Hey!” I turned my head towards the voice. A man sat in the driver’s seat, brows furrowed and eyes focused on me. Before I could speak, he continued, “This ain’t a free ride! Pay the fare, or get off my bus!” I nervously nodded, and pretended to search my pockets for money. Of course coming empty-handed, I looked back at the driver, shaking my head gently. Before he could say anything else, a couple of people from the bus yelled,

“Just let her on! We’re late! Hurry up!” The bus driver sighed.

“Fine, but when we get to the main station, you get off.” He replied sternly. I nodded, understandingly. I held onto the handrail in the front; watching apartments, cars and other objects jump through my view. I don’t know how long it was until we got to the station, but when we did, I was practically pushed out into an open space with other passengers.

Frantically glancing around, I attempted to find a bus that was going out of the state; I needed to get as far as possible from this place.

A man stood in front of one of the buses, the sign in his hands read: **Sandy Shores and Los Santos.** My eyes perked up as I reread the sign. That’s about three states away. I’ll have to get on that one, I thought to myself. I approached the bus and the man cautiously. Behind me, I heard somewhat loud voices. Glancing back, the driver of the bus I got off of was speaking to two police officers. I looked forward and quickened my pace. In my haste, I ran into a bus driver. Looking up at her, she was heavy-set, strong, and dark skinned. Her hair was beautifully placed in a bun, and her face held soft features. My immediate thought was how healthy she looked. Her deep brown eyes looked me up and down, peaked behind me, and grabbed my arm.

“Come with me.” She stated sternly. She dragged me on the bus, all the way to the back. “Sit away from the window, and take that hoodie off.” Although in shock, I quickly got out of the jacket. She threw another my way, blue and bearing a green frog in the middle. I slipped into it as she took my old one and threw it away. “Catch.” I lifted my head quickly as she threw a pair of pink sandals. I placed my feet in them as she whispered,

“You need to act like a normal passenger. They won’t ask for a ticket, but you need to stay quiet in the back, you hear?” I nodded, and she smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of here.” With those final words, she walked away from, strutting her stuff to the front.

I could feel myself curl inward as passengers began to file in. I felt the bus lurch forward, as I took the first steps into my new life. Taking a deep breath, I leaned back into the chair. I felt the emotional exhaustion hit me all at once. I didn’t know how long it would take to get there, but I was willing to wait.

I wasted 10 years of my life to abuse, I can wait for change.

 

About 35 hours later, my feet touched the soft sand of Sandy Shores. I waved to the bus driver, plastic bag in hand, and watched it drive away. I wasn’t sure what the living situation was going to be like, but my first idea was to secure a job first. Looking around, there was a large towering sign far off to my right. I’ll start there.

The sun beat down on my entire body, there was difficulty in trying to remain covered in the heat. I was positive heat stroke was going to set in if I didn’t get shelter soon.

I stopped shortly to view the large sign, _Liquor_. Well… a job’s a job. I sighed and walked quickly inside. It was small and only one staff member stood, brows furrowed as he looked around. I followed his eyes, and saw a tall man, dressed in dirty white shirt and jeans with combat boots eyeing some of the beer and liquor. I walked up to the cashier and quietly asked,

“I-i-is this place hiring?” The anxiety could be heard in my voice. I was practically shaking, where I stood. The cashier looked at me from head to toe, crossed his arms and said loudly,

“Hell no. You think I have enough money to hire another worker when this bum keeps robbing me?” I tried to stutter out an answer, but the cashier shut me down. “Listen, go somewhere else to give free goods to your friends or shoot up. Just get the fu-” The cashier was interrupted by the sound of a 18 case of beer and two bottles of vodka being placed on the counter with a loud thud. The man holding the alcohol angrily asked,

“The fuck you call me?” The cashier, which his teeth chattering in fear attempted to answer but the man interrupted again. “Listen, I’ll pay for the alcohol if you hire her. Better to see a woman than your fucking ugly ass.” He turned towards me, the height difference was clearly 6 inches or more. “You. What’s your name?” I almost said it, but realized it would be better to change it up front. With a small amount of confidence, I stated,

“Odessa.”

“Odessa? What a lovely name for a lovely lady.” The man, in a low voice, leaned up against the counter. I could feel my face was on fire. “Why don’t you check me out sweetheart?” I nervously looked at the cashier who, with a defeated look, motioned me over.

“Alright, here’s what you do.” The cashier gave me the basics, as I scanned items. The man paid, and said with a deep growl in his voice,

“I’ll see you later. I come in here about once a day.” A piece of me ran back to where I just was. The apartment, the glass, and the sound of a man’s voice, throwing liquor bottles at me. The man quickly left, and I looked at the cashier, who was rubbing his temples.

“As long as he pays, I’ll hire you.” I felt myself perk up. “But no free things!” I nodded vigorously. At least this way, I can try and live.

As I laid down on a disgustingly old bed, I thought back to my life, my choices, and Trevor. Looking at Trevor it seemed like he would put me back into the cycle with my ex-boyfriend, but at the same time, I knew nothing about him. Maybe he’s different. Maybe my life will be different. Closing my eyes, my only wish was for change.


	2. Living Day To Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going through the every day life of Odessa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! As promised here is a second chapter to this piece. I know this chapter is a little slow, which is why chapter 3 is also here!  
> Please let me know what you think and thank you for reading!

Day to day life was slow. My boss was always on the watch with me and the customers. He would yell from behind me to stop people from stealing, and sometimes would yell at me to make me check alcohol out faster. I didn’t know what normal was anymore, but I was sure it wasn’t really this. He payed me about 8$ a day, proclaiming that he took rent out of my paycheck for keeping a room. I kept thinking back to the man who essentially landed me this job. He hadn’t appeared since I’d been here, but maybe that was a good thing. 

One morning, I had walked down to meet my boss to see a note on the door:  **closed today.**

Closed? I thought to myself. I wonder why. I looked around; there didn’t seem to be anything of interest in the area, but walking around might be less boring than staying in the room.

The sun beat down on me as I kept a slow pace around Sandy Shores. There were a range of different people out and about, drunkenly stumbling about. Addicts were at every corner, too concerned about where and when they’ll get their next high to worry about someone like me who was walking around. I strangely fit into this community; I was also damaged and struggling with the pain of moving on in my life to the next step. The sun continued to shine brightly as I made it back around to my work place. The road was covered in glass and dirt, the fences of the homes around me were weak and rusted. One particular home, closest to the liquor store stuck out. It had a lot more junk in the yard than the other trailers; glass bottles, bullet casings and other trash was littered across the ground. A disgusting looking armchair sat at the corner, surrounded by an army of pizza boxes. The man from only a couple weeks before stood in the middle of the yard, stumbling about just like the rest, spare he lazily raised his hand up to reveal a gun, take aim and clumsily shoot at something. The gunshot that rang out caused me to freeze in fear. I could feel myself wanting to call out to him, thank him for landing me that job, but I knew all in all, it was bad timing and in bad taste. I could thank him if he ever came into the shop, but I don’t think I could actually thank him right here and now. It would seem like I sought him out, and I didn’t know who or what this man was capable of, especially with how carelessly he was acting with the firearm. I swallowed the lump in my throat, took a deep breath and continued to walk to my destination. Best save for another day.

A gunshot rang out again as I picked up my pace. 

_ One day. _

“Hey.” I heard the man’s voice, bringing me back to reality and stopping me dead in my tracks. I turned around slowly only to see him standing directly behind me. He was shirtless, only wearing a dirty and ripped pair of sweatpants. He had one hand on his hip and the other aiming the gun to the ground.

“How’s the job?” His voice was deep and soft, he kind of reminded me of… The click of him fiddling with the gun brought my focus back to answer.

“Oh, it’s okay. T-thank you for helping me out.” I gripped the bottom of my hoodie. Talking to him made me feel subconscious about what I wearing. I hadn’t really changed, and didn’t have that many clothes in the first place. The pile that I did bring was currently in use as a sheet, more like a barrier between me and the disgusting mattress in my room.

“It’s no problem. Don’t mind helping a lovely lady. By the way, the name’s Trevor.” I nodded, taking a small step back.

“Still, thank you… Trevor. Um… I better get going.” I took a larger step back, and then began to turn as the man spoke again.

“That shop’s closed today, ain’t it? You got another job or something that you’re doing right now?” I shook my head.

“Well, if you’d be willin’, I need a little help with something right now.” A chill ran through me. What could this stranger possibly ask? If it is what I think it is, how could I stop something with a gun if I say no? Anxiety rushed through my body.

“What is it?” I asked, a cautious tone in my voice.

“My trailer got trashed by some shitstain bikers, mind helping up with the damage?” Well that was different from what I expected.

“Oh… sure. I mean, y-you helped me with getting a job, so I’ll help you out.” 

“Follow me, we got a lot of work to do… Ron! Get your ass over here! We got work to do!” 

“Coming Trevor!” Another male voice rang out, it sounded meek compared to Trevor’s. I followed behind Trevor as he took long steps back into his trailer. I attempted to rush after him, when another man ran past me. He was slouched over, knees bent as if he was crouching and his hands in front as if he was readying himself to fall over. He wore a fisherman’s hat, vest and a single knee brace. His attire was a bit strange because I was pretty sure with how revolting the sea was, no fish were going to live in there. I walked into the trailer, only to be greeted by a large mess. It looked similar to his yard, except there were cockroaches and even more destroyed furniture. A table had fallen completely onto one side, while broken glass littered the entire floor. 

“Well, let’s get to work.” Trevor commanded in a gruff voice.

 

Evening fell quickly as we attempted to clean up the trailer. I sighed as I headed towards the restroom to survey the damage. The toilet had all been broken off completely, the mirror was all but destroyed and the shower had no curtain. Looking at the mirror, I saw my face hiding under my hood. A small piece of glass remained intact, allowing me to see just a bit of my reflection. The bags that were once under my eyes had disappeared; as I began to smile, a frown quickly fell upon it. My teeth were all kinds of messed up; my lips were chapped, broken and split; my lips were discolored and the corners of my mouths had also split open and blood was still encrusted on them. The smile that had begun form had filled me with disgust. I covered my mouth, at least with it hiding my face looked a bit better. 

“Hey!” Trevor’s voice brought me back to reality as I slowly dropped my hand from my face and turned towards the bathroom entrance. I quickly walked out to see Trevor and Ron both looking at me.

“Ron is going to finish up here, I’ll take you back to your place.” I put my hands up in defense.

“You don’t need to do that. I’ll be just fine.” Trevor shook his head,

“No, I’m going to be the gentleman here and take you home. I mean what kind of man would let a beautiful woman walk out in this type of town?” He walked past me, gesturing for me to follow, “I’d be a fuckin’ asshole. Now let’s go.” I followed Trevor out the trailer, enveloped by the darkness that had fallen onto Sandy Shores. I felt little comfort with Trevor walking me back, but as we approached my door, it almost seemed pointless. 

“T-thank you. You didn’t have to walk me here.” Trevor shook his head.

“Like I said, I don’t like it when a lady has to walk in the dark by herself. That’s just asking for trouble.” I nodded slowly, told him good night and walked into my room. I went to the pile of clothing. I didn’t even want to think if anything had soaked into them, nor was I going to take any chances. What I was wearing would have to do. I sat on the bed, thinking to myself, what do I want to change? I ran my hand through my hair. Could use a hair cut, it was beyond greasy and long. My face was something I’d also have to fix. I placed my hands on my stomach. I needed to gain weight. Running my hands up my sides made me realize how thin I was, decently close to starving even as I didn’t eat much since I got here. I had so much I wanted to change.

As I curled up into a ball on the bed, drifting off to sleep, my mind was continuously circling one thought. One day at a time.


	3. Getting Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odessa meets some not so nice people.  
> Trigger Warning!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! This chapter does have a Trigger Warning!  
> Also, this chapter is being put out immediately after Chapter 2 because chapter 2 is a little slow.  
> I know these chapters are a lot shorter than my other story, but I think I like them this way. Short and to the point.  
> So let me know what you think in the comments and thank you for reading!

I woke up to a loud banging on my door. I rushed over, opening it quickly, only to come face to face with my boss. He had a stern look on his face.

“Alright, let’s go. We’re already running late.” I quickly followed him out, walking into the shop when he said, 

“I was out yesterday for important business. You better not have tried to break in.” I shook my head as he headed to the backroom. I guess things weren’t going to change over night. The sounds of motorcycles rang through my ears, my focus turning towards the door. There was loud chatter as a group of men, wearing leather jackets entered the shop. I stood up straight, nervously hiding my hands in my sleeves, bundling up the ends into my hands. They walked around the shop, their boots thudding against the ground. 

“Hey.” One of the men called out to me as he approached the counter. My hands at my sides, tightened their grip on the sleeves.

“Yes sir?” He looked me up and down before asking,

“You Philip’s girl?” Confused, I asked,

“Who?” He nodded, gesturing for the others to follow him outside. I watched them leave, and sit on top of their motorcycles. I was still perplexed as my boss came from the back.

“Who was just in here?” I shrugged my shoulders. They certainly weren’t people I had ever seen or knew. My boss shook his head.

“People these days. Window shopping. Whatever.” He crossed his arms across his chest and sighed loudly. It was a really weird experience, but who was Philips? His eyes suddenly grew wide as he grabbed my shoulders and pulled me down to the ground with him. Confused I looked at him, until I heard a loud gunshot. It was then followed by many, shooting up the doors and glass bottles in the shop. I covered my ears as they began to ring from the deafening chorus. The boss, squatting, pushed me towards the backroom. We attempted to move as quickly as possible until the gunshots were replaced by the thunderous footsteps entered the shop again. The sound of a weapon being cocked forced us to turn around and stand. We both held our hands up in surrender. The man who was aiming a shotgun at us grinned.

“We know your Philip’s whore. There ain’t no reason why some random woman would go into his house without getting fucked.” I cringed from his words as he practically spit at me. “We have to get him back somehow, so killing his new whore will do.” He put the shotgun down, before quickly pulling out a pistol and firing it at the boss. His brains splattered into the darkness of the backroom. I felt wet specks on my face as his body fell to the ground, spasming and blooding pooling onto the floor. My breathing began to quicken as I heard the footsteps from the man stop in front of me. I slowly looked up at him, just in time for the man’s fist made contact with my face. I fell backwards, clutching my cheek that had taken most of the force. I could feel a tooth slowly becoming looser. The man walked over, ripped the hood away from my face, grabbed me by my hair and forced me to look up at him. He frowned.

“Damn, you’re an ugly bitch. I was gonna fuck you, but you’re way too fucking ugly. Wouldn’t even be able to get it up.” He threw me back down onto my hands and knees. He moved as if to turn away before immediately turning back to kick me in the face. I was grabbed by my hair again, being dragged across the floor to the outside, where I was dropped to the ground. I could feel glass shards scrape across my back, some digging in more than others. Other people began to kick me while I poorly attempted to protect myself. I could feel their heavy boots digging into my back and stomach. My legs were being stepped on while they spit on me. I heard a loud distinct crack, and an immense amount of stabbing pain, although unsure where it came from, from the constant assault all over my body. Finally a booming voice rang through.

“Alright, this bitch is useless. Let’s just take her outback and off her. We don’t fuckin’ need her.” The men made noises in agreement before one grabbed me, placing me over his shoulder and walking to a van. He tossed me to the back before slamming the doors shut. My whole body was in so much pain, I was sure something was broken. As the van moved, I felt hands rip off my hoodie, begin to grope me. I attempted to flail my arms to stop who ever my attacker was, but the booming voice of someone vibrated through the van,

“This ain’t the fucking time for that! I say she's fuckin’ useless, she fuckin’ useless. No point in wasting our time on some loose bitch.” My body was dropped onto the ground.

“What we’re going to do is kill the bitch here, make her head into a Molotov and throw it into that fucker’s trailer. That’ll send a nice, loud message.” My heart was racing, I could feel panic run through me. 

As the van stopped violently, my body was thrown into the back of the seats, knocking the wind out of me. I tried to catch my breath when the doors suddenly opened; the sun shining brightly in my face. I was dragged out by my foot, my head slamming into the sand as I was completely pulled out. I looked up at the man who threw down my foot; the sun just behind him blinding me. I saw a dark shadow raise his hand holding what looked like a gun, and then slam it into my head. My entire body fell onto the sand, my vision growing blurry. I heard some laughter, some words were passed back and forth before there was sudden shouting. The men who stood around me suddenly disappeared.

I attempted to slowly get up, but the pain in my arms made me collapse. I laid still for a few moments, or what felt like an eternity. The wind blew sand gently over my body, although I could only feel it on my legs. I tried to stand up again. I shakily made it onto both of my legs, breathing heavily. The sand pushed back on my dragging feet as I tried to move in some direction. My vision cleared a little as I found myself on the road. The black tarmac burned the soles of my feet as I crossed it, not caring which direction I was going in. 

I heard loud thunder overhead, and drops of water start to lightly fall on my face. It quickly became a downpour as I walked the streets. I didn’t know where I was until a large sign lit up in front of me.  _ The Liquor Store _ . I walked through the broken glass doors, glass quickly finding its way into my feet. As I walked deeper into the store, a voice came from behind me. I was unable to discern what it was saying, so my back remained turned towards the entrance. I felt a large hand grab my shoulder and turn my around. Through what little vision I had, Trevor’s blurry face came into view. I felt his hands on my face, I could barely hear what he was saying, only catching,

“... who...did... why...killed?” I attempted to reply, but was only able to mumble,

“This isn’t the first time.”

And my vision darkened.


End file.
